The Land of the Lost

IT’S A GREAT TIME TO BE ALIVE… FOLKS IS GASSED UP ON THEY JIVE… FILLING UP THEY DIRTY MINDBLIND HIVE… WILL THEY FAIL TO THRIVE TO DIVE TO ENACT A PACT FOR REGICIDE…

KILL THE WHOLE CLAN… PUT EM IN THE CAN…

DO IT, STREW IT, STAY ON BRAND.

oh how they run…

DONE AND DONE… the surround sound of one… what are you, dumb? the bros just want to have fun. yeah… bros just want to have fun.

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‘A FIRE IN THE STREET AIN’T LIKE A FIRE IN THE HEART…’

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I’m managing to ‘crank out’ one of these blog entries a month. I’ll be a little more regular soon. Applying another (hopeful) period of focus, and journaling is part of that.

That being said, I think I’ve caught a cold. I’ve been upping my immunity boosters again, as per the usual prevention protocol. Truth be told, I knew I fucked up when I went with Poodle’s nephew to hookah and I used his mouthpiece even though he was sick. I guess it was my way of inoculating myself against the flu since I don’t take the shot.

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Old habits die hard. Man… do they ever. It’s a brand new day…. that’s what… they say.

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Quit dicking around and just do it.Great words of advice. This will be the phrase that pays this week.

My cold only lasted 3 days.

The snow is about a foot deep.

B’s dad is in the hospital again with water retention and thrombophlebitis.

The body: an uncomfortable puzzle waiting to be solved.

Went to T.J.s and I dropped half my breakfast on the floor. Oh well.

Everyone medicates.

It’s a la mode.

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yo ho ho it’s the land of the lost, the drowned and tossed, the wrinkled and unflossed but ain’t that just the way it’s like i never learned anything i was supposed to most importantly keep my mouth shut how many times does history need to rinse and repeat i can’t lose my center i’m telling myself as i careen through the drips.

There are things like worn grooves in a soul. Emotional straits- like bottles in crates- will break under extreme pressure. Time marches on…

There’s the good fight to fight. There is being your best. There’s charity and clarity within. There’s the watcher in the woods. There’s the heavenly host. There’s hope in one hand and and a stiff Manhattan in the other. There’s the difference between perception and reality. And… see… that’s the thing because the perception of a thing is the reality of that thing. Maaaaan.

Who’s a witch???

You’s a witch!!!

Should anyone care???

Shut my mouth,

Save a stitch,

It seems more than fair.

Overload overlords

Dumpling and that

Whatever in meaning

Who gives a crap?

So witty.

Digression is a flaw, so raise your jaw and pronounce your screed soundly.

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“WE HAVE TO RECREATE THE EVENTS OF 38 YEARS AGO OR NOTHING WILL CHANGE!”

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What’s new pwussy boii???

Whuh-whuh-whuh-huh.

What’s new pwussy boii???

Whuh-whuh-whuh-huh-huh.

It’s 1:18 in the morning dammit…

Listen to me good:

Manson has died at age 83.

Manson and Hefner… 2 scions of the 60’s gone 4ever. Both very similar in a variety of ways. Now the Pizzagates are really gonna swing wide open.